Oblivion

Marks and Scars

Path was his name. And that's how I saw him, like a path; full of footprints, marks, scars. A path traveled and yet to be traveled. My footprint was there. Is it still marked, or has it faded away? Dissolved perhaps with the wind, or maybe crushed by a different footprint.

What I'm sure of is that Path left his mark on me, indelible, immovable; I could never forget him, and I don't know how that makes me feel. Sometimes sad and nostalgic, most of the time, in fact, that's how it felt, but not anymore. I don't have time for those kinds of feelings now; they've been accumulating, and I can't handle them anymore. They are too many, overwhelming, and stubborn, the problem, above all, is that they don't want to leave. And I need to forget, I would like to forget, I would love so much to forget... forget... I forget...

While I was immersed, lost in those thoughts, that's when everything started to blur, to fade, to dissolve in my mind until it reached a pale pink and then white, a constant and absolute white in my memory. Suddenly, I saw my heart, and it had no footprints, marks, scars. Nothing. Everything had started again, as if someone had heard my prayers, my wishes, and my longings, had taken pity on my afflicted and weak soul and had granted me the forgetfulness I sought so much, believed I needed. But how could I have imagined that the consequences would be so... What was the word? Oh, I forgot. Yes, suddenly that was happening much more than could be considered normal. Was my mind atrophying? How could that be possible?

Suddenly, my head would go for a walk in the skies, and my eyes, alone and abandoned, would stay here. Staring into nothing, thinking, trying to remember, and for once in my life, stop forgetting. Feeling a bitter taste in my mouth and murmuring a letter that sank and drowned in my saliva. But even that I am no longer able to remember, I got lost, and as lost as I felt, that's when I saw him. That face approaching through the snow seemed familiar, flakes falling and settling slowly on his hair, and I shivered.

"What are you doing here?" he said.

Upon hearing him, a strange sensation ran through my whole being, and I became aware of my own body, that it was snowing, that my lips were purple, my eyelashes covered in snow, and my hands frozen. But that didn't matter because sorrow, once again in my life, consumed me. I burst into tears; I didn't care that Path saw me. To be honest, I didn't even know it was Path who was in front of me, at least not at that precise moment. But as my tears fell and burned the snow as they fell, everything came back. It was a tremendous blow, not subtle at all, and then I saw him, looked into his eyes, and recognized him. I don't know how I could have forgotten those eyes, as deep as the sea and as gray as the sky on the perfect days of our autumn. I smiled and reached out to touch him, but I couldn't, he wasn't there, he vanished before my eyes. Was it a mirage? I still don't know, what I do know is that I don't want to forget anymore. Remembering hurts, but it's the footprints that make us who we really are. Path, I remember you.